Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

What's up with all these walking dead Who stagger all around our bed? Uninterested in beef stew, They'd rather munch on me and you. These lurching corpses swarm the land. They feast on flesh with nothing planned. They hunt the living, eat their brains. They're undeterred by snow or rain. These mindless zombies stumble on, A decomposing marathon, Two steps forward, one step back, A pitiful, persistent pack. "My dear, I fear you've grown unique... Your eyeball's hanging on your cheek!"